Anxious Hearts
by Witchy Nike
Summary: I'd always considered myself a happy-go-lucky type of girl, always the kind who saw the world in a glass-half-full kind of way.I never imagined my life would change for the worse, changing me right along with it... But these days it's hard to see the bright side of anything, making me wonder if happiness will ever be in the story of my life again.(Set after CAWS)Rating might go up!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of Marvel's characters or anything else you may recognize as belonging to anybody but me. Anything you don't recognize...yeah, that's most likely mine._

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Chapter One

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"Are you sure you really want to go through with this?"

I unbuckled my seatbelt as I looked at the airport that spread out in front of us, ignoring Adrian's eyes on me. The skies were a light grey, not a speck of blue could be seen behind the thick layer of clouds. The forecast had shown no signs of storms each of the near twenty times I'd checked in the last hour, but what my eyes saw here and now was easily working its way to taking over my rational and logical sense of mind that I'd worked myself into only half an hour before. Already I could feel the pressure and tension building in my chest.

"Hello? Earth to Mos? Am I talking to myself here?" Sighing, I finally glanced over at Adrian, whose worried tone matched his expression perfectly.

"I'll be fine," I said quietly, then louder, "I _am_ fine. Don't worry about me."

"I don't worry ab—"

"Adrian, you do. You've done nothing but worry and hover over me for the past year. I'm okay, really."

He ran a calloused hand through his short, light-colored hair. Lately it was getting hard to tell if his hair was more bleach blonde or a really light silver. While he was only thirty-nine years old, the stress of the past year or so had been weighing heavily on him.

"I know, and I know how important this trip is for you, but…" He gave me a weak little smile. "I'm not ready to say goodbye yet."

I rolled my eyes at him and punched his arm playfully. "You can't get rid of me _that_ easy. Now come on, I don't want to miss my flight."

As we were toting my few bags through the airport and through security Adrian was running through a mental checklist he had with me.

"You have your card and the extra cash?"

"Of course I do. I don't want to have to beg as soon as I set foot over there."

"What about your license? Passport?"

"Shit… I think I left my passport back at the house!"

Adrian stopped dead in his tracks. "That's not good at all. The house is at least a couple of hours away from here and with your flight leaving in twenty…" he trailed off upon noticing my grin. "Mihaela, that is _not_ funny. Don't cause my heart any more grief than need be."

I gave him a sheepish look. "Sorry. Check, check. I have both. What's next on your list?" We sat down near the gate that I'd have to pass through to board my plane.

"Do you have your address book? Have you already made arrangements with them? Do you have your phone so you can let me know when you get there?"

"Yes, Adrian. Everything's in place. Just relax."

"Speaking of relaxing…" He took my hand in his. "How are you feeling? Do you have plenty of things to do to keep you occupied?"

"I'm fine. I'm all set."

"Are you fine or are you _fine_?"

"Adrian. Stop. I'm perfectly fine. Just wait, we'll see that you were worried about nothing. It'll turn out that I actually _love_ flying. Believe me." Although at that moment I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince: him or me. I was barely keeping it at bay, and I knew he could tell, even without the slight tremor in my hands.

"Just do me one favor," he said gently as he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small orange bottle.

"No."

"Mos—"

"Adrian I can't. You _know_ how I want to do this."

"I realize that. I really do. But kiddo you're going to be going through a lot of new changes and experiences and surely stress. And after what happened…" he trailed off. "Please. Take them. If nothing else take them with you just to ease an old man's mind and heart."

"You're not old."

"I know. But still. Make this separation a little easier on me."

"I'm not sure about this."

"You're not your mother, Mihaela." He locked eyes with me, not seeming at all sorry for bringing _her_ up.

"We don't know that. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, after all." I hated that my voice had turned stiff and cold with him, especially since I was so close to leaving and we wouldn't be seeing each other for quite awhile. But I couldn't help it. Just the thought of her sent me into instant bitch-mode. Maybe in time my feelings towards her would change. But if that were the case, that time was not now. It was still too soon.

"Some day we need to talk about this, Mos."

"Today's not the day. Not now. I don't want to leave like this."

"Neither do I," he agreed. And because I loved him and didn't want him to worry about me more than he was already going to, I didn't move to stop him or protest when he tucked the bottle away inside my carry-on

Just then the first call for boarding the flight I was to get on rang out over the speakers. Adrian and I stood as one and turned to face each other.

"Tell the family I said hello and give them my love. And you better pay mine a visit at least once. My parents are looking forward to meeting you."

"Won't they be together anyways?" I had thought he'd told me the two families were really close friends and were practically inseparable.

"Yes, well, you know what I mean. They'll want to spend some time with you too."

"I will, I promise." The second call sounded out over the speakers. "I guess I should get going."

"I suppose you should." But neither of us made any effort to move.

"You'll love it there," he promised. "Make sure you try anything and everything you can while you're there. Especially this one little shop that serves as a café during the day and a bar at night. It might be small, but it's the best place in town. We used to spend more time than you can imagine there while we were growing up."

I laughed, despite the sad pang in my heart at the image. "It's not hard to imagine at all." The third and final warning seemed to scream at us. It was now or never.

I stepped forward into his arms and hugged him as tight as I could, letting his warmth and the comfort of his presence seep into me.

"I wish I could go with you," he said quietly into my hair.

"I wish you could too," I said, squeezing him tighter. But I had to do it now before I lost my nerve.

I stepped back and picked up my bags, giving him a smile. "I love you Adrian. I'll letcha know when I get there."

"You better." He gave me a warm smile in return. "I love you too. Take care of yourself, kiddo."

And take care of myself I would.

As I sat back in my seat (by the window, wouldn't you know it) I tried to calm myself. I tried to think happy, positive thoughts, the way I used to be able to before all hell broke loose. I thought of Adrian, I thought of all the stories he'd been telling me. But with those thoughts came the thoughts of another who was dear to me, and thinking of him didn't help matters at all. Because with the thought of him came all the other nasty doubts and anxious thoughts, plus the history of what had happened. And, before I knew it, I'd lost control once again.

Just as it began to wrap its hard, smothering hand around my chest, heart and, more importantly, my mind, I quickly dug through my bag until I pulled the little bottle free.

The woman sitting next to me gave me a sympathetic smile, which I hated. But there was nothing I could do. It had already sunk its teeth into me. I'd already lost, and the damage was done.

As I had done for the past year, I vowed to myself that the next day would be better. That the next day I really _could_ do it on my own. Tomorrow would be the day that I would take a step back and be on my own path, and not be closer to following in my mother's dark footsteps.

I shakily popped it into my mouth and swallowed it down, trying desperately to relax back into my seat as I waited for the aided relief to wash over me.

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 **A/N: Hello everyone! Thanks for giving this Fic a shot! While it's not my first FanFic, it _is_ my first Marvel Fic, so hopefully I won't screw it up too bad, right? Anyways, I know this will start of slow, but I promise we'll get to what you're wanting before too long. Just stay with me please! Hopefully it'll be worth it! :)**

 **Alrighty, please review! Reviews, whether they're good, bad, or constructive always make me happy. After all, how are we supposed to improve if nobody tells us what we're doing wrong?**

 **Nike**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

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Up until that moment I'm not sure I'd ever believed jet-lag was a real thing. But boy let me tell you, that sucker is real, and it's a bitch.

I'd gotten off the plane easily enough. I'd even found my luggage super easily, which (from what I'd heard about lost, misplaced, and stolen luggage) had been sort of a pleasant surprise for me.

Once I had all my belongings gathered around me, I quickly typed a message to Adrian telling him that I had arrived safely and, more importantly, so had all my stuff. I closed the Facebook Messenger app and stowed my phone in my back jeans pocket before I braced myself and stepped outside.

Outside of the airport, from what I could see of the city was mostly still. It had to be close to three in the morning, and just then exhaustion was starting to kick in. Since nobody had claimed me by the baggage area, I figured any of the family I had here would be tucked away in their beds at home, kind of how I wished I was right now. Rounding a corner, I stepped out onto the streets of Bucharest on my own.

It didn't take me too long to realize I was slightly wrong. While some of the streets looked empty enough, they most certainly were the exact opposite. Even with it being God-awful early, there were plenty of people out and about, and plenty of buildings (clubs and bars, maybe?) that were lit up like the Fourth of July with so many bright colors and that had plenty of activity surrounding them. While the noise wasn't deafening, there was enough of it that I would be surprised if anybody nearby was getting even a wink of sleep. As it was I was having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that Bucharest seemed like party central at night. Adrian had forgotten to mention that little fact during the countless conversations we'd had about his hometown.

Despite my surprise and shock, my exhaustion was immediately replaced by excitement. This was finally happening. I was finally going to get to experience my ancestors' homeland, just like he'd always wanted me to.

He should be here with you.

The thought crept up on me, as so many of them usually did. My mood darkened a bit, but I wasn't going to let it ruin my first impression of the city. I'd be damned if it let it win. Again.

I pulled a folded up piece of notebook paper out of my pocket and checked the address, hoping the house would be easy enough to find. However, I quickly found out that my biggest problem in this new city—no, new continent—wasn't going to necessarily be finding the house. No, what I struggled with most was the language barrier.

Now, I'd been taught Romanian while growing up. Hell, at one point I'd even been able to carry on full conversations. However, time had gone by since then, and recently I had been neglecting any practice of the language whatsoever, despite Adrian's protests. While you'd think taking a little over a year off without practicing a language wouldn't hurt (especially after having been speaking it fluently for practically your whole life), the exact opposite was the truth. It was crazy how much time and effort you could invest in something, then take only a small portion of it away for awhile, before you'd be left with basically none of it left.

I realized this during my first few encounters with people out on the street. While it was true there was no shortage of said people, it was also true that said people as drunks didn't speak very good English, or very bad Romanian for that matter. While I remembered a handful of words and phrases, it wasn't good enough to help out here, and I'm sure my terrible accent didn't help matters at all. I was hoping, after walking away from a young couple who weren't able to help me either, that immersing myself in this foreign country would help me pick it back up. I mean, you always heard stories about people wanting to learn a language who would throw themselves headfirst into the country and emerge speaking it better than their own language. Supposedly that was the best way to learn.

Eventually I grew tired, and with that my irritability rose right along with it. It had been a long flight and, unlike most of the other people on board, I didn't sleep a wink through it. And added on top of that, I hadn't hardly slept at all the night before because of my unease over the flight and what lay ahead of me the next day.

But then again, I didn't sleep much these days.

The next person I came across on the street I managed to convince to stop. He'd just exited a flashy building that had a thumping beat coming from inside the closed door. He was a young man who looked only a little older than me. He was sharply dressed and had dark, wavy hair and warm green eyes. His smile was friendly enough when he saw me, so I took another shot.

"Buna," I greeted the man.

"Buna dimineata domnisoara. Ce mai faci în această dimineață?" he replied, raising an eyebrow like all the others had at my awful accent. I wasn't going to even pretend I knew exactly what he had said, but I gathered he'd said something along the lines of "Good morning miss."

"Uh…" I fumbled around in all my pockets as I searched for the address I'd stowed away after no luck with the past few partygoers. When I finally found it I held it out for the man to look at, saying "Casa?", which I thought was the word for "house," despite it sounding suspiciously like the Spanish word to me.

The man nodded as he gave the address back to me. "Aveți nevoie de ajutor pentru a găsi casa?" he asked, giving me another radiant smile. I'd picked up on two things: the word "help" and his returning smile. So I took a wild guess that he might be offering to take me to it.

"Ajutor. Da. Vă rog," I agreed, returning his smile with a small, tired one of my own. Nodding once again, the man beckoned for me to follow him.

We crossed the street and walked a ways in what I thought was possibly east, but I wasn't sure on that either thanks to my wonderful directionally-challenged skill I had.

After walking for about another five or so minutes, we came to a stop in front of a fair-sized house. It was cute and homey-looking, just the right size for the size of a family that I was told supposedly lived within.

"Casa?" I asked, gesturing at the yellow-ish colored building. He nodded, giving me another smile before he opened his mouth and made me feel like the biggest dumbass in the world.

"Are you by chance Mihaela Stanislav?" My jaw all but dropped at the man's heavily accented but near perfect English.

"You…you speak English?" I demanded, dumbfounded, as I felt color rising to my cheeks.

"Yes. Although if you are who I think you are, I would have thought you would speak better Romanian." He shook his head, the same friendly smile still wide on his face. "But good Lord!" he exclaimed. "Do you not look just like your father! There is no way in Heaven nor Hell that you would be able to hide the family resemblance!"

I tried to push away the painful squeeze that was threatening to crush my heart and chest. Instead, I tried to focus on the positive. "Family resemblance?"

"It is the eyes. And the hair. And even the nose, if I am honest, though most like to claim we have perfectly normal noses."

"We?" I subconsciously reached up and touched my nose. I'd never thought I'd had an odd nose, but maybe I'd been wrong.

The man feigned a shocked, hurt expression as he exclaimed, "Why Mihaela, are you saying you do not even recognize your own cousin?"

I blinked, letting his words wash over me. "Er…no, sorry. I can't say that I've ever seen you before."

The man rolled his eyes before he threw his arms around me. "Oh it is good to see you finally!" He picked me up off my feet and spun me around a few times, enough to make me dizzy when he put me back on solid ground. I reached out and grabbed his arm to steady myself, to which he placed one of his hands over mine, patting it gently. "I am sorry," he apologized, "I just get so excited. It is not every day you get to meet a long lost family member." He beamed at me once again, and I was beginning to think the sun wasn't even as bright as that smile.

"It's, uh, good to meet you too," I said awkwardly, trying out another smile of my own. It had been a long time since I'd smiled this much in one day, but it seemed near impossible to not latch on to his contagious energy and friendliness. "So, uh, don't take this the wrong way Cousin, but who are you?"

"Oh!" he his smile froze on his face. "I am so sorry. That was rude of me. I am Eugen Stanislav."

"Well it's nice to meet you Eugen. Even if you did make me look like an idiot."

"No, not an idiot," he laughed, "I did think you knew Romanian. It was after I saw you did not know it that I had to lead you on a little."

I chuckled slightly, amazed at how much this young man reminded me of a little puppy. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol making him act like this or if he was just naturally a ray of sunshine. "Yes, well it's been a really long day and I'm exhausted. Maybe after I've slept some my Romanian won't be near as rusty, but I wouldn't hold your breath on that."

"Yes, of course, you must want to go to bed," he said, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "I will show you to your room, and when you awaken I will introduce you to the family."

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 **A/N: Thank you so much to everybody that has taken the time to not only read but also review! It means the world to me! I can't promise that updates will always be this fast, but who knows, reviews tend to be the best motivator in the world, so I suppose we'll see!**

 **Thanks again!**

 **Nike :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

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I woke up to the sound of laughter. It startled me, to say the least. The sound was so pure it was hard to ignore.

Glancing at my clock, I groaned. True to form I didn't sleep much that night. It wasn't that I didn't want to (believe me, I was _always_ tired), but because no matter what or how hard I tried, there was always something that plagued my mind. And it never failed that it was darker and louder in the wee hours of the night then it was during daylight. Even when I did manage to fall asleep it was never very sound or for very long. My dreams always managed to be worse than the ongoing reality…but only because they retold the story of my past.

After restlessly dozing off and on throughout the night, I finally heard life, hence the laughter that woke me up.

I sat up and stretched before making my way to the window. Peeking outside I saw that already the streets were filled with people, more so now then the night before. Apparently the people here loved the day and night life equally.

My phone buzzing once, twice, three times on my bed brought me away from the window. Sighing, I opened the messages from who I knew would be Adrian.

— _Im happy u made it safely Mos—_ read the first message.

— _But seriously child if u dont start getting some sleep Im going to come over there & knock ur ass out— _

Then the last read: _—Keep me posted & enjoy urself. Love & miss u baby girl—_

I made my way to my suitcase at the end of the bed and dug around until I found some decent looking jeans and a t-shirt that I threw on before trying to calm my messy hair by putting it up in a ponytail. I wasn't usually one big on caring what other people thought of how I dressed (especially lately), but I was about to make a very important first impression, and I sure as hell didn't want to screw it up.

Smiling to myself I couldn't help but think of how Adrian would mock me for this. _"They won't care how you dress, they're going to love you because who couldn't love you?"_ is what he'd tell me. I was lucky to have him…he was probably the best thing I had in my life. He was the only constant I had left and he always did so, _so_ much for me. He was more than just a family friend, he was my best friend. He was my shoulder to cry on, my rock, my therapist. He was like a brother and a father to me…

I immediately gripped the door handle and let myself out of the room, trying not to slam it like I was trying to do to the door in my mind. I began to make my way down a hallway, trying to follow the sounds of the voices.

"Este într-adevăr ea aici? Un pot să aştept să se întâlnească—"

"Tăcere. Are nevoie de somn, nepoata."

"Eugen probabil speriat-o deja!" Laughter followed that, making me wonder what it was they had said about Eugen. Aside from Eugen's name I was only able to pick out words such as "her" and "scared." God I needed to catch on to the language, and I needed to do it fast.

"Hmph. They have much faith in me as you can see." I jumped at the sound of Eugen's voice behind me. He gave me a rueful smile before yawing as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He then took me by the hand and led me the rest of the way, calling out, "Ea a fost aspirat de farmecul meu, frate! Nici o femeie nu poate rezista zămbetul meu!" We rounded the corner then and I was able to take in the sight before me.

The kitchen was enormous, and it had to be to fit all the people inside of it. Counting Eugen, there were at least four people my age, fourteen people around Adrian's age give or take a few years, four elderly people, and at least twenty kids aged anywhere from seventeen down to, well, babies. One of the older ladies and a middle-aged woman were at the stove cooking something that smelled unfamiliar and heavenly.

I had to blink a couple times to make sure I was seeing it all correctly. I'd never seen so many people gathered together in one house in one kitchen just for breakfast. It was unreal.

The room had gone silent when Eugen and I appeared, and all eyes were on me. I tried not to shift uncomfortably, but I really didn't like to be the center of attention.

"Nu fi nepoliticos," Eugen said into the silence. "Cineva să spună ceva." Despite what I'm sure was his best intentions to take some attention off of me, I couldn't help but be a little frustrated at the language barrier. I knew I was just moments away from being embarrassed yet again.

His words seemed to stir them to action. Everyone all at once started to say something and a few rose to their feet and approached me. I glanced at Eugen, slightly overwhelmed. This was almost too much to take in all at once.

Grinning at my expense, Eugen held out his hands as if signaling them all to stop what they were doing. "Mihaela vorbeşte engleză. Ea ştie doar un pic românesc. Ea spune că se va întoarce la mai mult timp, ea petrece printre noi." Everyone seemed to exchange glances at the information they had just received. An average-sized older man with wrinkles etched across his face rose from what I assumed was the head of the table to his feet and made his way over to me.

"Welcome Mihaela," he said in a deep, thickly accented voice. "We have been waiting to meet you for a very long time."

I gave the man a small smile, but the color of his eyes made me want to crawl into a hole and bury myself alive. Trying to take a deep breath, I held my hand out to the man and shook his roughly callused hand. "It's good to finally meet you all," I agreed, swallowing around the lump in my throat.

"Mmm." The man looked me over before he gestured to the older woman at the stove. She came over and stood by his side and gave me a wide, toothy smile…just like _he_ used to give me... "I am Serghei, and this is my wife, Ionela. We are your father's parents, God rest his soul."

Gripping my hands in tight fists behind my back I tried to not let my smile waver. "I, uh, have heard a lot about you two. Well, about you all actually." I glanced at the others around the room, trying to guess who was who and not let on that I in fact hadn't heard _anything_ about half of the people in here.

"Please, come sit. Introductions can be made over breakfast, yes? Eugen will make sure you are well acquainted." Ionela, my grandmother, said in a cheery tone as she returned to the stove. Serghei looked me over one last time before he returned to his seat at the head of the table, watching as Eugen once again took me by the arm and led me to a seat next to his and a girl who seemed around my age.

"Ahem, yes," Eugen cleared his throat, grinning as he looked around the table. "We will start here, with the Stanislavs," he gestured to the girl I was sitting next to. "Ramona, my younger sister."

"Nice to meet you," Ramona said in a heavily accented voice, smiling (although not as brightly as Eugen) at me.

"Next," Eugen went on, not giving me a chance to respond as he quickly fired off names and pointed to who was who, "Victor Stanislav, my brother. Ovidiu and Oana, they are twins. Their younger sisters, also twins, are the babies over there, Florina and Felicia. Marcela, Luiza, Petronela, and their brother Lucian. Tiberiu, Radu, and their sister Silvia are Dalcas, but their mom is your aunt. Valentina, Tereza, Sorina, and their brothers Remus and that baby there, Traian."

I blinked, trying to process all the names and faces as fast as he was introducing them. And he wasn't even halfway through everyone in the room.

"Now these are the parents of all those lovely children. Ciprian and Sabina are my and Romona's parents, Ciprian being the oldest Stanislav sibling, followed by your father of course. Then there is Gavril who married Ruxandra, and we will get to her family here in a minute. Next is Fane, another Stanislav brother, and his wife Marina. Cătălina is the eldest Stanislav daughter, and that is her husband Răzvan Dalca. The last sibling is lovely Lenuța with her husband Simeon Lupei." Eugen finally took a breather and glanced at me. "Are you still with me?"

"Vaguely," I responded, nodding slightly. "Family's a really big deal here, isn't it?"

"Indeed. And big families are a, umm, _big deal_ , as you say."

"I see that," I muttered as he started firing off again.

"The other people here are the Bălan family," he began. I knew before he named the man that he had to be Adrian's father. They had the same facial structure and long, crooked nose. "Iuliu and Larisa are the mother and father of the family, as Serghei and Ionela are of the Stanislavs. You know Adrian is the eldest sibling, followed by his sisters Nicoleta, Olga, and Ruxandra, who I mentioned earlier. The youngest, Mihăiță, who is actually close to our age, is the only one of the second generation in this home who is not married, although I am sure his time is near," Eugen said with a wink in the man's direction. The man, who also looked a lot like Adrian, minus the eyes and hair, smiled kindly at me.

"That is Nicoleta's husband, Beniamin Negrescu, and their son, Atanase. Olga's husband, Claudiu Vasile and their sons, Emilian and Gabi, and daughters, Denisa and Corina. And, of course, you have already met Ruxandra, Gavril, and their children. That concludes the long, drawn-out introductions of the Stanislav/ Bălan families."

"I feel like you need a round of applause for taking that head-on and dealing with it so effortlessly." I gave him an admiring look. "I don't think I would've made it through that in one piece."

"It helps that Eugen likes to hear himself speak," Mihăiță, who had a pleasantly deep voice, said laughing slightly.

"So I'm beginning to see," I agreed, giving the room a small smile. "Well, I'm guessing you all know who I am already, but I'm Mihaela Oana Stanislav, and I go by Mos for short. Umm, I'm twenty-three years old and, as you all can probably tell, my Romanian sucks and I sound very, _very_ American. It's really nice to meet _all_ of you, really." There were some chuckles and lots of smiles before the attention was _finally_ drawn away from me when my grandmother and Cătălina, my aunt, started to load the table with the freshly cooked food. My stomach growled at the sight and smell of the food, making me realize that the last time I'd eaten anything had been over a day ago.

Once my grandmother and aunt had taken their seats at the table, everyone began to help themselves. I was just about to take a bite of something that looked like a chimichanga, but less Mexican and more Romanian, when my grandfather cleared his throat.

"While it is nice to finally have you here, Mihaela, we must get some important business taken care of before we can genuinely enjoy your stay."

Confused, I placed the food back on my plate and met his eyes. "What kind of business? Adrian didn't mention you guys needed anything specific—"

"Ah, well it would seem Adrian has forgotten a tradition that we hold dear and still follow to this day."

"Oh." Now I was really confused, because Adrian had spent weeks giving me a crash course of anything and everything our two families did because, as he kept reminding me, the head of his family and the head of mine were _very_ traditional. "Well, I can try my best to help. What's going on?"

"We have waited five months, and I do not want to wait any longer. It is time we gave your father a proper funeral."

It was with those words that my head started spinning and my blood ran cold. I dropped my hands in my lap, trying to use the pain from digging my nails into my palms to ground me, but it didn't seem to be working, not this time. Not with something like this.

"Serghei, the girl just got here," I heard my grandmother say from a distance, "now really is not the—"

"We agreed to wait until she got here," I heard him reply, "and she is here, so now we will get it done. It has been too long as it is."

My heartrate picked up and felt like it was about to explode out of my chest while my breathing became ragged and shallow and my body started to shake. I had to get out of here. I couldn't handle this right now, I just couldn't.

"Mihaela, are you alright?" I heard Eugen ask as he placed his hand on my arm.

I stood up abruptly, wrenching my arm from his grasp. "I-I have t-to go," I managed to stutter before I made my way shakily to the doorway.

"You cannot just leave when I am talking to you, Mihaela," I heard my grandfather's stern voice call. But the only response I could manage to give him was to slam the front door shut as I took off running down the street.

 **A/N: I'm sorry this is late and overdue, but I'm hoping updates will soon become a more regular thing. I can't promise that, but I can hope! So thanks for staying with me and reading guys! It means a lot!**

 **I hope all of you have a safe, wonderful, and happy New Year this weekend! And I'll see you all in 2017!**

 **R &R?**

 **Nike**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

* * *

I'm not sure how long or how far I ran, but I didn't stop until my legs and my lungs gave out. I collapsed to the ground, trying to calm my breathing from both the run and the talk. It took me about ten minutes, but I somehow managed to calm myself, although my heart was still pounding and my body was still shaking. I mentally kicked myself. Yes, my flight response kicked in, but I should've known better. I wasn't as good as I used to be. Running didn't make me feel better anymore…it made me feel worse. It made me feel like my heart was going to explode, or like my lungs were going to seize up and prevent me from breathing. And while I knew all of this was just in my head, I could never shake the seemingly real sense of foreboding every time I even thought about doing some form of physical exercise.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. This wasn't helping me at all. When I thought of how I was now, I thought of the symptoms, and when I thought of the symptoms I thought of what I was diagnosed with and why…and then I'd be set off all over again. And I didn't need that, especially not right now when I was lost in an unknown area of an unknown city in a basically unknown country.

Trying to steady myself, I shakily got to my feet and looked around me. _Breathe,_ I kept telling myself. _Deep, steady breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth._ I noticed I was on the outskirts of what, to me, looked like an oversized farmer's market. Except there were cars flying by right down the middle going either direction. Even though I didn't have any money with me, I let myself follow the flow of people towards it, thinking maybe if I saw and smelled all of the food within it'd make me hungry and therefore brave enough to go back to the house and face what waited for me there.

As I walked down the left side of the street I was unable to hide my amazement at the assortment of not only products but people that filled the area. There was food, household items, stereotypical touristy items (such as maps, brochures, language pamphlets, etc), newspapers, a vast variety of homemade anything and everythings…it almost seemed that if you could think of something, you could find a vendor here that would have it.

The noise definitely reminded me of a city, though. The sound of the traffic wasn't my favorite, especially when it seemed as if every other car that went by had to blast its horn at other cars, pedestrians, or just for the hell of it. And as if that wasn't loud enough all you had to do was throw in the voices of the vendors yelling to get buyers' attentions, which made shoppers have to raise their own voices just to have a conversation with whoever they happened to be with.

I slowed down to a standstill as I came upon a vendor selling fruit, glancing at what lay out on the table. While I loved food in general, fruit was my weakness, especially if it was sweet. Back in the good old days every Saturday at my house we'd have a fruit buffet for breakfast, where everybody was supposed to bring something different than what they brought the previous week. But, because I was spoiled, it never failed that we always had my absolute favorite fruit every Saturday: plums.

Even though the memory made me smile, I couldn't stop my hands from beginning to shake. Happy memories almost made me feel worse than the bad ones. They reminded me of just how good I had had it.

Clenching my jaw, I picked up a couple plums from the table and examined them while I tried to steel myself against my emotions. I was _not_ going to do this again today, and certainly not in public.

"Prunele sunt proaspete si foarte dulce! Un le vei găsi mai bine oriunde altundeva!" the eager salesman all but shouted in my face. I didn't understand a word he said other than plums, so I quickly put them back and went to move on. But the man reached out and grabbed my arm, saying, "Aştepta! Eu îţi voi da o afacere!"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're saying," I finally said, starting to feel uncomfortable at the contact. "I don't have any money anyways. I was just looking." The man furrowed his eyebrows, but he didn't let go. So I tried again, trying to translate what I'd just said. "Umm, fară bani…doar cautati…imi pare rau."

"O să iau patru prune," a familiar voice cut in beside me, taking the vendor's attention off of me. The vendor dropped my arm and rushed to get what he had asked for.

Sighing, I turned to look at him. "Thanks for saving me Eugen."

He nodded as he gave the vendor some coins, handing the bag of plums to me. "You really should not wander too close to the vendors without money. As you can see, they are very persuasive getting people to buy."

"I noticed," I muttered as I nibbled on one of the plums. And I had to admit, it was one of the best plums I'd ever had. It was fresh and juicy and sweet…almost like the ones I used to get at home.

"Mihaela…are you okay? I was worried."

Unable to look at him, I watched as people passed by us. "I'm fine."

"Mihaela." I glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. "I know you are in pain. It was not right of Bunic to—"

"Look Eugen. I really don't want to talk about it right now." His eyes searched my face before he nodded.

"Can I take you home?"

"I don't know if I'm ready yet. I need to apologize, I know that, but I can't find it in me to do that right now."

"I understand." We stood in silence for a minute while I finished eating another plum before tying a knot in the top so I wouldn't lose the rest of them while Eugen scuffed his shoe on the pavement. "I have an idea!" He smiled his signature bright, sunshiney smile, making me unable to resist a small one of my own.

"What's that?"

"Would you like to see the family business?"

"Family business?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Yes. You cannot think the Stanislavs and Bălans—how do you say?—pull money out of the air? Our money comes from the business, and the business has lasted for generations."

I'd known from the size of the house alone that my family here had a lot of money, and I _had_ been curious about where the fortune came from. "No. I mean, yes, I'd love to see the family business and no I didn't think you grew money on trees."

He smiled at me and linked his arm through mine. "Alright dear cousin, let us show you the secret to our family's wealth and name."

* * *

I have to admit I was kind of surprised by how normal and almost average the family business was. Generally when you hear about family businesses and people getting rich off of them you think of, well, almost anything except for what lay before me.

"Welcome to Băl-islav Family Farm, dear cousin," Eugen said as he opened his arms widely to encompass the vast acreage of farmland that apparently went far beyond what the eye could see.

"You guys are farmers?" I asked, trying to keep the disbelief out of my voice.

"Farmers and businessmen, yes," he chuckled. "We are one of the top farms in the country. We are trusted with good products and fair prices. Almost all buy goods from us."

"So I'm guessing you do more than raise animals if you're making a huge profit."

"Correct. We raise animals, grow herbs, vegetables and fruit, and about ten years ago we even begun to make a unique wine that seems to grow more and more popular by the day." I couldn't help but notice he looked a little proud. But then, why shouldn't he be? He and our entire family, plus Adrian's family, had busted their asses for generations to get to where they were today. That was a good enough reason to be proud.

"Well with all of that I'm surprised you guys don't operate a brewery too," I muttered sarcastically, giving him a small smile so he'd know I was joking.

"There has been talk about beginning one." He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "But no one can come to an agreement on where to start or what to do, so no brewery just yet."

"That's a shame. I'd buy beer from here."

"Beer is your drink then?" His eyebrows rose in surprise. "I would have thought your drink of choice would be more fruity."

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "Isn't that a little stereotypical, Eugen?"

"No, no! I did not intend for it to sound that way. I just generally know by looking at someone what is their drink of choice. It is a gift I possess."

"A gift and fine-tuned tool you use to pick up girls, I'm sure."

He shrugged, grinning. "It is as if you have known me all my life, Mihaela."

"Well then I guess I have to admit you're not wrong then. I _do_ enjoy fruity drinks. But I also enjoy beer, wine, hard liquors…I guess you could just say I have a taste for alcohol in general."

"Yet another thing we have in common!" He threw an arm around my shoulders and gestured to the fields and to the gigantic building that lay to our left. "Where do you want to begin on our tour?"

"The weather's gorgeous right now, so how about we do the outside portion first before it gets too hot?"

"As you wish." He slid his arm off my shoulders and started to make his way towards a slightly smaller building to the right of the big one.

"Uh…Eugen? I thought we were doing the outside portion first?"

He laughed without looking back at me and said loudly, "If you think we could walk the entire land in just one day, then you are insane." He opened one of the large doors and disappeared inside. Seconds later I heard an engine start up, and out drove Eugen in a dark blue side-by-side. He brought the vehicle to a stop next to me. "Get in! I promise I will not wreck."

Internally I winced. I hadn't even thought that he might wreck, but as soon as he said those words I became a little apprehensive, even though I knew he was only joking. I managed to push all of it down, though, and hopped in, placing the bag of plums next to me on the seat while I buckled up.

"I imagine farming here is similar to how it is done back in the USA. Except here we do a lot of the farming and other work by hand, as you can see by all the people scattered in the fields."

There definitely was a lot of people, more than I would've imagined. "You guys are able to hit your deadlines and stay efficient with that much human labor?"

He laughed, patting my hand good-naturedly. "Part of what draws people to buy our products is that we employ nearly half the city. So long as we stay in business, the people will always have a job here, no matter the work experience so long as they are willing to work hard."

"And you've managed to profit from that?"

"Yes. Big profits."

"Do you work here too?"

"Of course! We all do. And you will too, if you wish." I saw him glance at me, as if wondering what he should say. "Bunic will probably require that you work during your stay here."

"He's used to people doing what he says, isn't he?"

I thought I saw Eugen grimace, but I could've been wrong. "That is the way of our household. He is the head of the house, so everyone follows his orders." I tried not to groan at the thought. It wasn't that I had a problem with authority and following orders…there was just something about my grandfather that had rubbed me the wrong way, even before he brought his terrible idea up…

"So," I said, interrupting my thoughts before I could get sucked down into that dark hole again, "when I start working here, will you train me?"

"You do wish to work here?"

"Well yeah. It'll be good for me to have something to do. Plus when I go back home I can proudly tell Adrian I did my fair share to help the family business."

He laughed, smiling over at me. "I am sure he will be proud of you. When do you wish to start?"

"That depends. Will you be training me?"

He shook his head. "No, we have a new policy where family does not train family."

"Why? That's kinda weird, considering it's your guys' business."

"Let us just say it did not end well when a brother tried to show a brother how things were done… So it is just best to have somebody outside of the family work with you for awhile."

"Okay…so who's going to work with me?"

"Hmm…" He seemed to think for a couple minutes as we drove by in silence. Then, all of a sudden, he turned off the path and brought the side-by-side to a stop next to one of the workers who was digging. "We like to give everybody a chance here," Eugen said in a low tone to me, gesturing at the man who hadn't turned around to acknowledge us yet. "He arrived a few months ago, and I think it would be good for him to have someone to work with. He keeps to himself, and I never see him out on the town. And that would seem kind of lonely to me."

"Okay…as long as he's not a serial killer or a rapist, I can live with that."

"We do not hire those types of people, cousin."

"I was kidding…you know what, never mind. Introduce me?"

Eugen gave me a funny look before he hopped out of the vehicle and called out to the man, "Buna! Vrei să luaţi o pauză de un minut?" The man stopped digging and turned around to face Eugen, holding the tool he was using loosely in his right hand. Eugen beckoned for me to join them, so I unbuckled and walked around the front of the side-by-side and stood next to him. The man turned his eyes on me, and it was all I could do not to let my jaw drop. Although scruffy and looking a little worn down, the man was definitely handsome, in a rough sort of way, despite the sweat that covered his face and neck.

"James, acest lucru este Mihaela. Ea este vărul meu şi vas ta cu noi pentru o vreme," Eugen told the man, whose name was James from what I understood.

I stuck my hand out to him, giving him a small smile. "Bună ziua James," I said in what I hoped was the right words. He didn't seem surprised by my terrible accent, but he did switch the tool from his right hand to his left so he could shake my hand. His grip was firm and strong, his hand all but engulfing mine.

"Mihaela va lucre aici pentru o vreme, şi avem nevoie de cineva care să o antreneze şi să lucreze cu ea," Eugen told James, who dropped my hand and turned his attention back to him. "Poţi să faci asta pentru noi?"

"Cum doriţi," the man said after a moment, his voice deep and smoothly melodic.

"Mulţumesc. Ea va începe mâine. Ea te va întâlni de depozit," Eugen said with a smile, to which the man nodded before turning back to his work.

"Come, Mihaela. Let us finish the tour so we can go tell the family the good news."

"Wait a second," I said as I reached into the side-by-side and drew out the bag of plums. They weren't completely fresh by now, but they'd be a nice treat in this heat. I tapped the man, James, on the shoulder saying, "Scuzati-ma?"

He turned around and looked down at me, face neutral. I took his right hand and placed the bag in it before stepping away. He looked down at it and then back up at me. "Mulţumesc, Mihaela."

"Cu plăcere," I replied as I hopped back into the side-by-side.

"Your Romanian is sounding a little better," Eugen remarked once we got moving again.

"You're lying," I scoffed. "It's still terrible and we all know it. That man was just too nice to laugh at me."

"Maybe some time with someone who does not speak English will help you."

"Maybe," I agreed, although my first impression of James told me there wasn't going to be much socializing or small-talk with him, only hard work.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

* * *

I honestly should've been prepared for the showdown that was waiting for me back at the house, but I'd actually had a good time with Eugen touring the farm that I'd forgotten about the morning's incident. That is, until we walked through the door and came face to face with our grandfather, who was waiting just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his somehow still broad chest.

"Bunicul Bună seara," Eugen greeted him in a light-hearted tone.

"Trebuie să pleci, Eugen. Trebuie să vorbesc singur cu Mihaela," he replied dismissively. Eugen gave me a sideways glance before he bent down and kissed me on the cheek, saying,

"I will see you later. Today was fun, yes?"

"It was, thanks," I agreed with a small smile. But my heart had already sunk into my gut. Even though I hadn't understood what he'd said to Eugen, I knew my grandfather wanted to talk to me alone, and I knew exactly what it was going to be about.

"I am going to go home, then. I will see you early in the morning, Mihaela," Eugen said as he turned towards the door.

"Wait…home?"

He chuckled, giving me a lopsided smile. "I am a full grown man, cousin. I do not live with my parents or grandparents anymore."

"Right…" I muttered as I felt my cheeks grow warm.

"Come, Mihaela," my grandfather said in a tone that suggested I didn't have a choice in the matter. "Let us sit and talk." As I followed him into the living room I tried to keep my hands from shaking and tried to steady my heart and breathing before it had the chance to spiral out of control.

I took a seat on the edge of the couch, hands clamped between my legs while he sat adjacent to me in an armchair, posture perfectly straight.

"I know you have suffered a hard loss, Mihaela," he began, not wasting any time as he went straight to the point, "but we all have. The way you acted this morning was unacceptable and childish. It is time for you to move on, as we all have. It has been five months since your father's untimely death and there is no reason you should not be able to sit down and have a discussion about it."

Silence was his only reply. Even if I had wanted to, I couldn't respond. It was all I could do to stay sitting on the couch. As it was already I could feel my body start to shake slightly and my insides felt like they were being crushed to a pulp.

"I do not know if you have noticed, but we are a fairly traditional home. As you would expect, when your Bunică suggested we wait until you got here to give Enric his funeral I did not agree. We had many long talks about what should be done for our son, and eventually I gave in and agreed with her wishes."

I wasn't exactly sure whether or not he knew just how much self-control was being exerted from me at the moment. I was minutes away from a complete meltdown. But anger was starting to bubble up and lend me strength, because I sure as hell didn't want to lose it in front of him. He was torturing me, and I didn't want to give him that satisfaction so long as I could help it.

"That being said, you _will_ assist with the planning of his funeral and you _will_ attend as we have so graciously allowed it to be possible for you. You will stop acting like a spoiled child and get over yourself. It is time to move on with your life."

"You don't even have his body. He's buried back in the States. Why would you even want to do a funeral here?" I managed to ask in a small yet unwavering voice.

"Tradition, although it has been altered because we have waited so long and we do not have his body. But I will sleep easier at night once it has been done."

"So even if this whole ordeal makes somebody else not sleep a wink for weeks, at least you'll sleep easier at night, right?"

His face hardened at the bite of my words. "If you are to stay in my home, you will show respect. I am the head of this house, not you. If you are going to stay here, you will follow my rules and my traditions whether you agree with them or not."

"Fine. Now if you're done reprimanding me I'm going to go and try to get some sleep. There's one family tradition so far that I've learned of and agree with, and that's working." I rose to my feet and left the living room, muttering goodnight as I passed him, "Bunicul noapte Buna."

I'd no sooner shut the door to my room before my body began to shake uncontrollably. I couldn't handle this…and honestly I probably never would be able to. I didn't know what I was thinking, why I let myself talk me into coming here. I knew that _every damn thing_ was going to be a reminder of _him_ …just like I knew I was never going to be strong enough to handle it.

" _Please! No no no NO!_ _Wake up! WAKE UP!"_ Screams and sobbing filled my ears and my head, and it was all I could do to stay upright as my chest began to feel tighter and tighter until it felt like it was going to pop. My head and heart was pounding, and I could feel myself rapidly losing control.

" _Somebody help us! Help him!" There was so much blood, and the smell of burnt rubber and the sound of bullets and screams was unbearable. But the worst part about it all was I couldn't look away, couldn't unsee, couldn't_ unlive _what had just happened..._

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to clear my mind, but it was no use. It was like a scratched record, skipping and playing the same thing over and over and _over again._ I could feel my body going numb, starting at my toes and quickly making its way all the way up to my face. It wouldn't be long before I was immobile. I knew exactly what was coming next.

Biting my lip hard enough to draw blood, I somehow managed to get my limbs to work long enough to grab the bottle, thanking God that we'd decided to put them in an easy-open pop-top for moments exactly like now. As much as I hated these and myself for taking them, I was alone. And I knew there was no way possible to get out of this alone. I'd tried so, so many times. Hell, even with Adrian beside me it was hard enough to get under control without them.

With violently trembling hands I popped it in my mouth and swallowed as I curled up in a ball on the floor, trying to tell myself all I could do now was ride it out and that it would be over soon. But both my body and mind knew it was a lie. Sure, maybe this episode would be done in a while, but it would never be _over._ It was my punishment for what had happened, and it would be a punishment I'd suffer through for the rest of my life.


End file.
